Page 34 of Jump or Fall

Mara

T he safest way to get to Hyperion was through the tunnels. With the risk of getting cornered by Silvers or enforcers, driving wasn’t a viable option.

They met with Silva and Kimmie near Crux. Kimmie hadn’t been exposed as a rebel, but she wanted to be cautious and maintain her cover for as long as possible.

Mara had wrapped a cloth around her missing eye. At least that way, she could pretend they couldn’t see how grotesque she was. Gordon might still think she was beautiful, but every glance in the mirror sent a shiver down her spine.

Kimmie seemed softer when they greeted each other. Instead of her usual glares, her pale green eyes swept over Mara’s face, and there was a twitch in her brow. Almost like sadness.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” she said.

Mara waved her off. “Nothing that can be done about it.”

Silva patted her shoulder as they walked. “All these years working in the Armory, and you still ran with scissors.”

She frowned, and he added, “Don’t roll your eye at me.”

Mara couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. It was a terrible joke and she wasn’t feeling very humorous, but the effort counted for something.

“I can’t believe he actually killed the Archon,” Kimmie remarked .

Silva scratched his head. “You’d think he would be a little sensitive about severed hands, but what do I know?”

Gordon used one of his birds to scout the street leading to Hyperion from the tunnel. The way was clear, except for the armed guards that stood around the building.

“Millon made sure to keep a group of personal guards with no Silvers in their ranks,” Silva said. “Apparently, he was very meticulous about their selection.”

Knowing Millon had been planning for things to change was interesting. He never spoke of personal matters or anything besides work with her, but he wasn’t a fan of Dawson. Every interaction she had witnessed between them had been succinct, with Millon leaving at the earliest opportunity.

Hyperion stood ahead with its dark windows, beckoning to them. Even after a decade, its ominous presence could not be overstated.

As they neared the entrance, a guard stood, watching them approach. He gave them a curt nod and waved them through. A second guard unlocked the gate and door, then stepped back silently to let them enter.

The empty lobby felt vast and unwelcoming, the lack of people amplifying the sounds of their steps as they ascended a set of stairs to Millon’s office.

Mara had only been up here a handful of times—once when Kenji still ran the company and she nervously interviewed for her apprenticeship, and again when Millon had promoted her first to journeyman, then to Master Tailor.

Each visit had marked a turning point in her life.

Now, she was here again, but for a far different purpose.

Their personalities had been starkly different. Kenji had been amused that a teenage girl wanted to make armor, giving her two months to prove she was serious. Millon, by contrast, had been far more serious and hadn’t made a joke of her aspirations.

The door to his office was open. The far wall was a black window, and he was seated at a large desk made of wood so dark it nearly matched his onyx shirt. Across from him were four chairs, and he gestured for them to sit.

Millon eyed each of them, but his gaze lingered on Kimmie a few seconds longer than the rest.

“Mara, I’m sorry you’re now a member of the missing parts club. I take it your companions are the rogue enforcer—” he looked Kimmie up and down “—and the hacker.” His eyes flicked to Gordon.

“Kimmie and Gordon.”

Silva, barely containing himself, blurted, “What happened to the hand?”

Millon smirked. “It’s around.” He turned to Gordon. “I’d like you to put this on every newsfeed.” He slid a small key across the desk.

Apprehensively, Gordon took it. “What’s the message?”

“It’s a surprise. Once that’s up, we can discuss more.”

Gordon inserted the key into his tablet.

As he worked, Millon switched on the newsfeed against the back wall.

The feed changed from the polished face of the news anchor to an image of the silver-painted hand hanging from a large gate. The camera zoomed out, revealing a familiar location—Dawson’s house.

An address appeared beneath the image, followed by a chilling message: Let’s return the silver hands to their owner.

A list of names then filled the screen.

He sent a hit list to the entire city.

The owner of Hyperion had just waged a full-on war against the government of Teichus. Naxos’s hope of a semi-peaceful transfer of power was surely gone now with the Archon dead and the mayhem this would cause.

Millon sat back in his chair, smiling. She wasn’t sure if she had ever seen him smile before. They all stared at the feed, taking in the new reality of what was about to unfold.

“Why did you call us here?” Mara asked .

“I want you to help me take them down. You were already trying with your little ragtag group. Now you don’t have to steal from me to do it.”

Silva shifted uncomfortably. Millon continued, “All is forgiven—if you continue to help.”

Mara hesitated. “I don’t know how much help I can be anymore, Millon.”

He reached into a drawer and pulled out a small rectangular box then slid it across the desk.

Inside, was a bionic eye, along with a tiny vial and chip. The vial contained nanobots that when mixed with a drop of blood, would meld to the DNA of the recipient. The bots prevented the body from rejecting the implant and maintained the synchronization with the chip.

Her lips parted, but no words came.

“Mara, I was complicit in your mistreatment for far too long,” Millon said.

“I won’t hold you to the theft, but I offer this in exchange for your continued service.

Regardless of what many have whispered over the years, your position as Master Tailor was earned through hard work, not Secretary Knight’s influence. ”

She carefully picked up the box and examined the false eye. Millon had managed to find an iris that was light brown, so it wouldn’t be too different from her natural amber.

“I will stay until he’s dead,” Mara replied. “After that, I’m leaving the city with Gordon.”

Gordon reached over and took her hand. The simple, open display of affection made her heart flutter.

Millon’s eyebrows rose, and he chuckled. “So, he was right. Well, partially—he accused me of seducing you.” He glanced at Gordon. “Where else would she get something like an override key?”

“Before we do anything else,” Kimmie interjected, “I want to trade my sister, Nella.”

“Of course, the only other Deluri in Teichus is related,” he mused. “What were you intending to trade? ”

“We have his nephew,” Silva said.

Millon covered his mouth to stifle a laugh. “You have Jasper? Oh, this is a great day. Maybe you don’t need to trade, though. Like Mara, she lives in an apartment nearby.”

Knowing that Nella had been so close all along was jarring, but it shouldn’t have surprised her. Dawson liked to keep his possessions close.

Kimmie’s mouth gaped open. “Let’s go get her then!”

He tilted his head. “He may have moved her back in—what with the current situation. We should go about this quietly.”

“Take me there,” she demanded.

“I’ll take you, but I want Silva to get to work on Mara’s eye. Hacker-man, I can’t exactly order you around, but we may need your skillset.”

Gordon shook his head. “I’m not leaving Mara’s side.”

“Very well.” Millon stood and headed for the door. “Rogue Enforcer, this way.”

Kimmie muttered a curse and followed him out.

Silva guided Mara into the surgical room, methodically prepping the equipment. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air as she studied the bionic eye in greater detail, turning the box over in her hands.

“What kind of improvements can be applied to these?” she asked, pulling it close to her eye for a better look.

Silva arched a brow, his glasses slipping down his nose. “Is now really the time for a project?”

Gordon answered, “It’s the perfect time.”

They went down to the Armory where Mara selected a God’s Eye helmet, then carefully extracted the mechanical eye.

With delicate precision, she opened the casing of both the helmet’s eye and the bionic implant, laying them side by side under the bright lights.

Silva leaned in and adjusted his glasses. “Does this have a synth-mind in it?”

“And thermal vision,” she confirmed, observing the intricate circuitry within.

He let out a low whistle. “All right, tell us what to do.”

They worked quickly, modifying the bionic eye with the enhancements. With her depth perception impaired, she directed them through the process. Every connection, every adjustment had to be precise—there was no room for error.

Back in the surgical room, she hesitated. The thought of enduring another round of SynThera made her stomach twist. The relentless burning and itching had been unbearable at times, forcing her to pause whatever she was doing just to get through it.

Gordon stood beside her as she lay back on the bed, his warm hand enveloping hers.

The last thing she felt was his reassuring grip before the sedative dragged her into the void.